


internet love affair

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Canon Universe, Crossdressing, Graphic Masturbation, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2019-01-21 10:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12455808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: It was only a few months ago that he went searching for the forbidden, to understand his feelings along with his hidden desires, and Master was the first one to contact him.





	internet love affair

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

_isn’t there anything you’d like to try? this is anonymous, you know. you can tell me anything._

Kitayama looks up from his phone in a feeble attempt to pay attention. It’s an informal meeting, so he doesn’t feel that guilty about his mind being elsewhere. If Senga and Nikaido can lounge all over each other like they’re at home, then he can certainly check his email. Though he’s reconsidering adding his secret account to his Google app as a blush crawls up the back of his neck.

Usually Master doesn’t email him during the day. He must be feeling particularly ornery today, or maybe he’s in a different time zone and right now it _is_ his nighttime. Kitayama doesn’t actually know anything about him, except that he’s a man in his late twenties who is into BDSM with other men. It’s the same in reverse, though, which gives Kitayama the freedom to be honest about who he is and what he wants. Even when he doesn’t know himself.

Sometimes Kitayama thinks that this is what the Internet is for. To be someone else for a little while, except that it’s really the self you hide from everyone around you. He may be assertive in his daily life, but sometimes he just wants to give in to someone else’s control. It was only a few months ago that he went searching for the forbidden, to understand his feelings along with his hidden desires, and Master was the first one to contact him.

_i understand you_ , was the very first message. _i was once in your place. let me teach you._

Kitayama had clung onto him like a lifeline, and not just virtually. They were only words on a screen, but they were so strong that he couldn’t stop himself from reacting physically. With Master’s gentle persuasion – at least Kitayama imagined the voice was gentle in his mind, having never heard it – Kitayama explored his own body as well as his the depths of his mind, finding pleasure he hadn’t even _dreamed_ existing and giving himself mind-blowing orgasms that could only be _better_ with another person.

With Master.

They can never meet, that much is certain. Kitayama is a famous idol, not that he advertised that fact, and Master has to keep his identity a secret as well for undisclosed reasons. There have been no pictures, no phone calls, nothing but text and the intent behind them. It makes this whole thing even dirtier, easier to speak from his soul or wherever his darkest fantasies lay, and Kitayama quickly sends off a response before returning his attention to his group.

_I watched that movie you recommended with the collars and ownage. I was really interested in the submission, though I’m not sure which end I’d want to be on._

A deep breath helps him return to reality, where Miyata’s going on about comedic tactics for their next appearance, and Kitayama grunts and laughs where appropriate. His focus is back home in his bedroom, where he can freely imagine himself in these situations that Master paints with his words, so vivid and realistic despite his solitude.

Kitayama’s phone buzzes just as Yokoo and Miyata get into a dumb argument, giving him the opportunity to sneak another peak.

_i think you’d make a wonderful Master, m-san. you have such a finality with your words that exudes dominance even when you’re uncertain. i can help you become more confident; you just have to find a pet._

_as for the collar, remember it’s the act of putting it on that is important. no matter which side you’re on, the collar is claiming ownership. once the collar is fastened, the pet cannot do anything but obey. this is the beauty of it all. a good Master will continuously touch and tug on the collar to remind the pet that it’s on and what it stands for._

“Shit, that’s hot,” sounds a whisper entirely too close to him, and Kitayama jumps enough to leave his heart in his throat.

He doesn’t even know what to do. He would know that voice anywhere, and no one seemed to hear it but him. Fujigaya’s the first one to call attention to anything sexual, so Kitayama just squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the humiliation to unfold.

When nothing happens, he chances a glance behind him. Fujigaya’s staring at him, his eyes contemplative, and all at once Kitayama _gets_ it. With a hint of a smirk, he holds his phone where Fujigaya can obviously see what he types, not that he needed permission to read over his shoulder in the first place.

_I think I just found a pet. Please lend me your guidance, Master._

Sending the message, he looks back at Fujigaya, daring him to deny it. But all Fujigaya does is lick his lips, probably the most subtle gesture he’s ever made in his life, and Kitayama feels something twist deep inside him. He doubts that Fujigaya can follow anyone’s orders for five seconds, but he’s already tingling at the thought of collaring him. Struggling may just make it better.

His next email isn’t from Master.

_come over 2nite. i want gems on my collar._

It’s really difficult to concentrate during the rest of the meeting, but Kitayama is nothing if not a professional. Even if all he can think of is Fujigaya on his knees, the gems on his collar sparkling almost as much as the deviousness in his eyes.

*

Kitayama isn’t sure what he expects upon arriving at Fujigaya’s apartment later that night, after a rather embarrassing trip to a seedy sex shop that made him feel dirtier than he already did, but Fujigaya looks calm as ever as he invites him inside and offers him a drink.

As he takes off his shoes and hangs up his incognito hat, he watches Fujigaya move around in the kitchen. They’ve worked together for a long time, and Kitayama would be a liar if he said he’s never thought about him like that. He’d have to be straight to not find Fujigaya incredibly attractive, that lithe, tanned body with hips that don’t quit and that _face_. Such a gorgeous face, born to be an idol, and lucky for Kitayama he has some semblance of talent and ended up a Johnny instead of just a model.

“The way you’re looking at me right now,” Fujigaya says, breaking through Kitayama’s reverie as he walks towards him with two beers. “I like it.”

“Of course you do,” Kitayama replies. “You like when people look at you.”

“I do,” Fujigaya agrees, gesturing for them to sit down. “But I especially like the way you’re doing it now.”

Kitayama doesn’t have a response for that, so he just takes the proffered seat and notices that Fujigaya sits on the next cushion. Not too far, not too close. Kitayama takes a drink as the words mull over in his head, words he put together in his head on the way here from a mixture of his Internet research and Master’s advice, but he can’t bring his mouth to open and speak them. Not with Fujigaya right here.

“I have to know,” Fujigaya finally says. “How did you even start talking to that guy?”

Staring at the coffee table in front of him, Kitayama speaks into his beer. “I found a website a while ago that looked interesting and made a post. He replied. We started emailing and became friends.”

“Friends,” Fujigaya repeats. “Mitsu, you and I are friends. You and this guy are not friends.”

“You’re a bad example for comparison right now,” Kitayama points out, and he hears Fujigaya scoff.

“That may be true, but shit. _Shit_. I mean, I only saw a little bit, but… I can’t believe you talk about that kind of stuff with strangers on the Internet!”

“How is that any different from what _you_ do on the Internet?” Kitayama shoots back, suddenly fueled with anger. He’s ready to leave, except then Fujigaya really would tell everyone.

“Hey, I am totally open about my Internet perversions,” Fujigaya says clearly. “I even recommend you guys good porn sites. Though apparently I’ve been giving you the wrong genre this whole time. _And_ orientation.”

“I still like girls,” Kitayama tells him. “This kind of stuff, though, just seems right with a man. I don’t know. I haven’t even done anything yet. It’s all just in my head and…”

“Hey,” Fujigaya says again, and Kitayama reluctantly turns to face him. His expression is soft, comforting, and Kitayama thinks that this may have been a good decision after all. “You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t curious too, okay. I’m just surprised you went to a stranger instead of one of your friends.”

“Would you go to one of your friends about this?!” Kitayama asks incredulously.

Fujigaya shrugs. “My friends are open minded. And so are yours, at least I am.”

“But you don’t _know_ anything about it,” Kitayama argues, then cuts his eyes to Fujigaya’s. “Do you?”

“Not from personal experience,” Fujigaya admits, looking sheepish. “Okay, I see your point. I just… you’re not going to meet him, right?”

“Never,” Kitayama says resolutely, noticing how Fujigaya looks pleased. “He has no interest in divulging information about himself, either. It’s a mutual anonymous relationship.”

“That’s so _hot_. I mean.” Now Fujigaya’s the one looking down, scratching the back of his head in a nervous way Kitayama hasn’t seen from him before. “Do you guys do stuff together? Like over email?”

“Sometimes,” Kitayama answers. “Usually it’s me doing things that he tells me to do. Then I tell him about it, how it felt, and he explains how I can make it better.”

Suddenly it’s like the tables have turned, Kitayama watching Fujigaya as he trips over his words, and Kitayama likes the way this feels. A lot. His next breath seems to give him a power he hasn’t felt before, one that has him reaching for his bag in his lap. The crinkling of paper gets Fujigaya’s attention and when he raises his head, the flush on his skin goes straight into Kitayama’s pants.

“They didn’t have any gems,” he says apologetically as he retrieves the sparkly pink leather collar. “But the man at the shop said my girlfriend will love this.”

If Fujigaya takes any offense at being called the girlfriend, it doesn’t show. His eyes lock on the collar, his hands resting on his knees like he’s about to kneel right there on the couch. Kitayama wants him to, to bow his head and let Kitayama fasten the leather around his neck, but Master had instructed him to get all of the preparations out of the way _before_ putting it on. Once it’s on, he’d said, there’s no turning back.

“What do I do?” Fujigaya asks, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me what to do, Mitsu. Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Usually there’s no speaking, but I like your voice,” Kitayama says, the power reaching his throat and taking over his voice controls. “You may speak if you’re begging or reacting favorably. And I think I’d like you to address me politely. Hiromitsu-san will do.”

Fujigaya’s eyes darken and he nods once. “Yes, Hiromitsu-san.”

Arousal floods Kitayama so fast that he can’t recall Master’s words anymore, just that he’s supposed to make his pet feel comfortable and appreciated as he gives instructions. He can’t think of anything other than how fucking beautiful Fujigaya is, especially with the pink tint to his face, and how much he wants that body under his.

“Lean your head down,” Kitayama says gently, and Fujigaya instantly drops into a full bow. His head is practically in Kitayama’s lap and Kitayama bites his lip at the close proximity, knowing that he could tell Fujigaya to suck him off and he would. He has to. Once Kitayama collars him.

His hands don’t shake as he lifts the leather with one hand and pushes Fujigaya’s hair off of his neck with his other. Fujigaya jumps at the contact and Kitayama lets his fingers linger, the first touch between them like this, and Fujigaya relaxes. This is the comfort he’s supposed to provide as the Master; Kitayama smiles at being able to convey it without words.

He gets the collar mostly around Fujigaya’s neck before he remembers the first thing on Master’s list of requirements. “Safe word,” he whispers, reaching down to lift Fujigaya’s chin. His hair is in his face and Kitayama pushes it out of the way, exposing those eyes that look up at him with all the trust and affection in the world. “Pick one.”

“Apple,” Fujigaya says immediately, then purses his lips cutely. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Do you want me to hurt you?” Kitayama asks, his fingertips throbbing at the thought.

Fujigaya tilts his head into the hand that still cups his face. “I don’t know.”

“I won’t, then,” Kitayama says firmly. “This is purely about you serving me. If you do as I say, there will be no need for punishment.”

He feels the shiver that runs through Fujigaya at his words. “Yes, Hiromitsu-san.”

Kitayama breathes deeply. “I really like how that sounds coming from you.”

A small smile forms on Fujigaya’s lips, which Kitayama traces with his thumb. He’s drawing this out and he knows it, but part of him wants to, to make it last longer. And if it were him, he’d want his Master to allow him to become accustomed to the arrangement before just jumping in. He places both of his hands on Fujigaya’s neck, gently urging him upwards, until he’s kneeling next to him with his head mostly down.

“Anything you want to say before we start?” he asks, his voice lower than he intended.

Fujigaya looks up at him, eyes locked and so intense that Kitayama almost falls backwards from the effect. “Please be good to me,” is all he says.

Another deep breath and Kitayama lifts the collar to Fujigaya’s neck. He expects Fujigaya’s eyes to fall shut, but they stay open and trained on his as Kitayama carefully loops the leather, making sure there are no twists or bunches. It fastens easily and Kitayama makes sure it’s loose enough to allow him air, but tight enough to remind him why it’s there.

Fujigaya sighs softly, like he’s relieved, and Kitayama cups his face again. He really is beautiful. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, and Fujigaya smiles up at him. His thumb finds those lips again and now he can’t think of anything but feeling them against his. “Kiss me.”

It happens immediately, Fujigaya’s arms looping around his neck, mouth attacking his like he’s been waiting for the instruction for longer than a few minutes. Kitayama quickly takes control of the kiss and tugs on the collar, making Fujigaya calm down enough for the passion to gradually build between them. Kitayama’s so into it that he can’t think of much else, let alone instructions, though his fingers don’t leave the collar he’d placed on the other man through the duration of their kiss.

His other hand drops to Fujigaya’s shoulder, a grunt of frustration sounding from him when he feels the fabric of Fujigaya’s shirt. “Undress yourself,” he mumbles against Fujigaya’s lips. “Then undress me.”

The last part just slips out, but it feels right and Kitayama watches intently as Fujigaya leans back to pull his shirt over his head. He stands up to unfasten his jeans and Kitayama’s on his feet before he knows what he’s doing, grabbing Fujigaya by the wrist to halt him.

“Wait,” he says, already breathless, and Fujigaya looks at him in confusion. “Take me to your bedroom first.”

He loosens his grip as Fujigaya laces their fingers together, holding his hand intimately like a pair of lovers as he leads him down the hall and through a doorway. Fujigaya’s bed is neatly made, dark crimson sheets that scream sex, but what catches Kitayama’s attention is the mirror on the other side. He sees the pair of them in it, himself standing behind Fujigaya whose sparkly pink collar stands out from the dark skin of his body, and he drops their joined hands to hug him from behind.

Fujigaya’s moan is filthy and Kitayama knows it’s from the erection digging into his ass; he gives a sharp roll of his hips to hear it again. He watches Fujigaya’s eyes fall shut as his head leans back on Kitayama’s shoulder, Kitayama mouthing the back of his neck above and below the collar.

“Hiromitsu-san,” Fujigaya whispers, and Kitayama grunts his acknowledgement. “Feels good.”

“Continue,” Kitayama gets out, his voice almost hoarse like he’d been yelling for hours. His hands splay on Fujigaya’s bare chest as Fujigaya reaches down for his belt, swiftly unlooping it and unfastening the buttons on his jeans before pushing them down. His boxer-briefs are black and modest, and Kitayama notes there’s no hesitation before they too drop to the floor, leaving him completely nude and aroused for Kitayama’s eyes.

“So beautiful,” he repeats, and Fujigaya beams. “My turn.”

Instantly Fujigaya spins around, demanding Kitayama’s attention on him instead of the mirror as he loops his fingers under the hem of Kitayama’s shirt and starts to pull it off. Kitayama lifts his arms obediently, even more turned on at how he’s the one succumbing to Fujigaya’s unspoken order right now, but the collar gleaming around his neck reminds him who’s really in charge here.

Fujigaya seems to be rushing to open Kitayama’s pants, but one tug to the leather has him slowing down. He sneaks gropes of Kitayama’s ass and Kitayama lets him, likes seeing what little defiance Fujigaya can manage while still following directions. Then his touch comes around to the front and Kitayama fists his hair, bringing him back up to his mouth as Fujigaya’s knuckles brush his cock and _fuck_ he’s already harder than he’s ever been before.

This time he allows Fujigaya to kiss him heatedly, nearly pushed back against the door from the force as Fujigaya shoves his pants and boxers down as far as he can manage at this angle. As much as Kitayama wants to keep kissing him, the fingers teasing him have him ready to take advantage of his position in the best possible way.

“On your knees,” he whispers into their kiss. “I want your mouth around me.”

He expects resistance, but the next second has Fujigaya sliding down his body, mouthing sporadic patches of skin on his chest and stomach before Kitayama feels a lick to the head of his cock and his resulting groan echoes in his own head. His fingers tighten in Fujigaya’s hair, then loosen to push it out of his face as Fujigaya starts to move back and forth, taking almost all of the length in his mouth on the first try.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Kitayama hisses, and Fujigaya hums his contentment. Kitayama forces his eyes down to watch him, and he’s glad he did; Fujigaya’s staring up at him, mouth stretched around Kitayama’s cock, and it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He lets Fujigaya continue for a while, rolling his hips to thrust into that hot mouth, until finally he can’t take anymore. “On the bed,” he growls, and he notices Fujigaya shiver again as he stands up to comply.

Kitayama watches him lay on his back, posing like he’s doing an erotic photoshoot, and Kitayama’s cock twitches at the sight of him absently reaching up to pull at his collar. “How would you like me, Hiromitsu-san?”

In response, Kitayama steps closer to the bed until his knees make contact, then falls forward to crawl up Fujigaya’s body. The younger man looks up at him with an enticing thrill in his eyes, which fall shut as Kitayama leans in for a hard, bruising kiss. He doesn’t lower his body on top of Fujigaya’s, just hovers over him as their tongues curl around each other, until finally Kitayama pulls back and grabs him by the shoulders, effectively turning him around onto his stomach.

“Fuck yes,” Fujigaya gasps out, his back arching to push his ass back against Kitayama. “Please, Hiromitsu-san.”

“Relax,” Kitayama replies, his arousal growing with each of Fujigaya’s quick breaths. “Soon.”

A whine sounds from the man beneath him and Kitayama reaches for his bag, taking out the bottle of lubricant he’d purchased. He’s only done this to himself, but Fujigaya is much more responsive and Kitayama finds himself grinding against the back of Fujigaya’s thigh as he twists fingers inside him one by one.

“God, Mitsu- I mean, Hiromitsu-san,” Fujigaya pants. “So good, mm, right there.”

‘Right there’ has him arching even more, his body tightening, and Kitayama struggles to keep hitting that spot, pulling a shrill moan from Fujigaya’s throat. He finds himself breathing hard into the back of Fujigaya’s neck, the scent of leather mixed with Fujigaya’s spicy cologne prominent in his nostrils as he stretches him open, moving faster and deeper when he can.

“Taisuke,” Kitayama rasps, and Fujigaya purrs his approval of the way he’s addressed. “I want you.”

Before Fujigaya can respond, Kitayama replaces his fingers with his cock, quickly slathered with more lube. It’s tight and hot and Fujigaya makes a noise that has Kitayama reaching for his hips, holding him steady as he pushes in, inch by inch until he bottoms out and groans out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

Fujigaya shudders beneath him, which Kitayama feels around his length and he takes that as the cue to move. Fujigaya’s moans start and don’t stop, one for each thrust and sometimes in between, joined by Kitayama’s grunts as it becomes easier to push through the resistance. He loops one arm under Fujigaya’s thigh, spreading him open even more as he pounds into him, and Fujigaya’s moans turn into screams as Kitayama hits that spot that has him tightening and jerking.

“So – good – _fuck_ -” Kitayama forces out, unable to speak other than in staccato bursts of air as he’s brought to the edge of reality faster than he’d like. “Tai-suke-”

He can’t get out the words, so he just reaches around Fujigaya’s waist to take his cock in hand, eliciting an even louder moan as he feels Fujigaya start to fall apart from his touch. Hastily Fujigaya reaches for his other hand and Kitayama doesn’t understand why until he feels the leather on his fingertips, his fingers splayed along the collar and he gives it a sharp tug.

Fujigaya comes instantly, twitching in his hand and spilling over his fingers, and his body tightens so much around Kitayama that he has to snap his hips even harder to move. He’s grunting with every breath as his arms wrap around Fujigaya’s torso, pulling him close enough to feel his heartbeat through his back, and orgasm claims his next breath, pausing his understanding of reality for a short while.

When he comes to, Fujigaya’s playfully swatting his face, having turned over onto his back while Kitayama was out. His squirming pulls some more of Master’s advice from his thick, muddled brain and he starts to push himself up only to crash back on top of him from his lack of equilibrium.

“Easy there,” Fujigaya whispers, and now he’s the one running his fingers through Kitayama’s hair. It feels nice. “I thought you’d fallen asleep. I wouldn’t put it past you to pass out after sex.”

Kitayama just grunts as he finally manages to roll off of Fujigaya and sit up. Standing is another challenge, but once Kitayama gets to his feet he has enough drive to fetch a damp washcloth from Fujigaya’s bathroom and return to tend to his friend.

Fujigaya watches him as he’s cleaned, his gaze turning softer with each gentle wipe. “Did I do well, Hiromitsu-san?”

“Yeah,” Kitayama replies, flashing a quick smile. “You did. Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Fujigaya replies, his eyes turning devious again. “That was really hot.”

Kitayama finishes his cleaning and flops onto his back, only jumping a little when Fujigaya curls up along his side. “Didn’t peg you as a cuddler,” he mumbles.

“The collar is still on,” Fujigaya mumbles into his chest. “I feel really close to you right now.”

A long, deep breath overtakes Kitayama, perhaps making up for lost air or reacting to Fujigaya’s words, he’ll never know. His arms feel like they weigh a million pounds as he lifts them to Fujigaya’s neck, tracing where leather meets skin one more time before reaching for the fastenings.

Fujigaya kisses him as the collar comes off, but their lips remain pressed together even after Kitayama’s touching Fujigaya’s neck directly. It feels nice to kiss after sex, though he’s losing more and more consciousness, until he falls asleep to the sound of Fujigaya’s knowing laugh and their heartbeats slowing to a calm.

*

_i’m proud of you, m-san. from what you tell me of your session, you did well. will you be utilizing this same pet again?_

Kitayama purses his lips as he considers collaring Fujigaya again. It hadn’t been unpleasant by any means, but it had left him feeling a bit uneasy about their relationship. Or, rather, lack of relationship.

_I don’t think so, Master. This feels like something I should do with someone I care deeply about, not just a casual friend. I enjoyed it very much, though._

He conveniently leaves out the part about Fujigaya giving him promising looks at work. That one clearly has no problem continuing this whatever-it-is without feelings. Or, more specifically, without _monotonous_ feelings. Fujigaya has feelings for everyone who touches him. If Kitayama were to keep doing this with him, he’d have a big problem with that.

It’s Saturday night and Kitayama settles in with his computer, ready for a long night of self-exploration. He once asked Master why he’s home on weekend nights instead of out hooking up, and he’d evasively answered ‘the same reason as you’. Aside from being worlds apart when it comes to this kind of thing, Kitayama doesn’t think they’re that much different.

_that’s a good response. Masters don’t usually share their services freely. i can’t do it without pledged devotion either. i’m proud of you for making that distinction on your own._

_are you still unsure whether you prefer to dominate or be submissive? perhaps you should seek out a Master of your own, though those are much harder to find amongst one’s group of friends._

Kitayama thinks about someone doing to him what he’d done to Fujigaya and makes fists out of both of his hands. There’s nobody he trusts that much – except Master, of course. But he can’t type that; he can specifically describe how he touches himself, but not admit that he wants to experience Master’s guidance firsthand. It’s an invisible line that neither one of them wants to cross, because admitting it leads to yearning which leads to breaking the rules of anonymity.

He wonders what Master looks like, if he’s tall or short, thick or thin. He imagines a large, burly man, someone like Nagase maybe. Though Kitayama himself isn’t large and burly and he’d played the role just fine. Master could really look any way, he realizes, or be anyone.

_Perhaps I should, but you’re right – there’s no one I know who could do that. This isn’t exactly something I can do to myself, either. This is frustrating, especially now that I’ve had a taste of it. I want more._

A small part of him regrets even starting this, because now he’s going to have to live with this dark truth about himself that no one else can see. He may have to settle for Fujigaya after all, if only as long as Fujigaya can stay faithful to him, or as long as Kitayama can pretend he is.

_i understand you all too well. we’re limited with the people we already know unless we agree to meet others in forums like these. as that’s not an option for either one of us, we have to make do with emails, and it’s quite difficult to dominate someone via email._

Kitayama begs to differ, but he’s not about to say so. This is the first time Master has even breached the topic of the two of them _together_ ; he must be feeling the strain of celibacy too. It wouldn’t hurt to test the waters with a playful comment, he decides.

_I don’t know about that. You dominate me every time I read your emails._

It seems like an eternity before he gets a response, Kitayama refreshing his email like a lovesick teenager as he waits. For the first time he considers the possibility of Master not responding, just dropping him when he gets too close, and the thought terrifies him. Not just because someone he’s spent three months learning from would just leave him like that, but because he’s attached enough to be so affected by it.

_is that so. in this case, maybe we can work something out._

_but not tonight. think about it for a couple nights and let me know._

_think about it in detail._

Kitayama’s face burns as he realizes how Master wants him to ‘think about it’, his hand already in his pants before he makes up his mind whether to be ashamed or not. He imagines explicit instruction via email, maybe involving toys since he can’t exactly dominate himself, and he gets himself off in record time.

As he catches his breath, he frowns at his computer screen and laments his life. He loves being an idol, but he’s extremely jealous of regular people who can live their lives the way they’d like to without an entire country (maybe even the world) judging them.

*

Fujigaya knowing his secret has turned out to be more of a blessing than a curse. Though disappointed that they won’t get to ‘play’ again, he’s all ears when it comes to anything concerning Master or Kitayama’s exploration into that side of himself.

“I don’t see the big deal,” he says casually over crepes. “People sext all the time. It’s no different than that, right?”

“I wonder,” Kitayama says noncommittally.

He almost falls off the ledge when Fujigaya bumps into his shoulder. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t think it will be as… intense,” Kitayama tries to explain, stalling with a huge bite of crepe.

Fujigaya doesn’t reply right away, and when Kitayama looks over at him, he appears thoughtful. “I kind of get it,” he finally says. “Like, hearing your voice and seeing your face, I mean. In addition to the physical contact… yeah, it’s not the same. For someone in your position, anyway.”

Kitayama just grunts, not wanting to flesh it out anymore in his mind. “It’s either that or nothing, though.”

“Not _nothing_ ,” Fujigaya replies with a smirk, and Kitayama rolls his eyes.

“I know this is hard for you to understand, but as this is entirely about trust and devotion, it’s essential that the two people involved be _exclusive_.”

Fujigaya blinks. “You’re right, I don’t understand that at all.”

Shaking his head, Kitayama eats more of his crepe and once again tries to decide whether continuously getting off in front of a computer screen is worth it. People do it all the time while watching porn, but this would be different. He would be acting upon someone else’s typed words, someone nameless and faceless who still manages to control him anonymously.

“I’m going to do it,” he says out loud, and Fujigaya cheers. “I feel like I’m about to walk a tightrope over hot lava, but I can’t _not_.”

“Just keep your balance,” Fujigaya says, and Kitayama thinks that’s the most sensible piece of advice he’s ever given. “And seriously, Mitsu, don’t be stupid.”

“I don’t need to hear that from you,” Kitayama scoffs, and Fujigaya bumps his shoulder again. He’s glad they understand each other like this.

*

Three days is long enough for thinking, Kitayama concludes. If this were any other aspect of his life, he would have made a decision within a few hours. He subscribes to following his gut instinct, which probably comes from his soccer background. You don’t have time to think about your next move on the field – you just make it.

_Tonight?_ he shoots off during recording.

_i’m free_ , he receives a while later.

Right at dusk, Kitayama plops in front of his computer and takes a deep breath. He’d spent three days thinking of how he was going to say this, and right now in the heat of the moment he opts for the short-and-sweet approach.

_Let’s give it a try._

He can’t do anything but stare at the screen until a new message appear, but instead of a response, there’s an executable file for what looks like an instant message program. Kitayama swallows hard and clicks it, follows the prompts to install it on his computer, and makes sure to input his secret email as he sets up his account.

A box instantly pops up his screen, titled ‘master of x’. _good evening, m-san_.

_Good evening, Master_ , Kitayama replies. It’s strange to be chatting in real time like this; there’s even a message at the bottom of the window that tells him when Master is typing back.

_when we are in this box, we will be fulfilling our roles for each other. with exception of this first time, which is purely a test run, you’ll do as i say and answer anything i ask._

A shiver courses up Kitayama’s spine. Somehow it feels like this man is in the room with him, someone he’s never seen or heard. He doesn’t even know who to imagine in his mind; when he fantasizes, Master is always in a dark shadow just observing whatever he does. Now he’s going to be an active participant.

_Yes, Master_ , he replies, his fingers tingling with each touch of the keys. Maybe this can be intense after all.

_again, this first time is a test run. please ask questions or seek clarification if you don’t understand. if at any time you want to stop, say so. i haven’t done this over the internet before either._

Kitayama feels warm after that last message. He didn’t think he could be Master’s first at anything. He recalls Fujigaya’s last words before Kitayama collared him and replies, _Yes, Master. Please be good to me._

The flashing message that Master is currently typing feels like a tease in its own, and Kitayama squirms in his seat. ‘Excited’ doesn’t begin to cover the feeling he has right now. When the text finally shows up on the screen, he reads slowly to savor each word.

_please disrobe, informing me of each garment as it’s removed. trail your fingers lightly over your body as the skin is exposed, mainly your chest and thighs. do not touch your cock._

Kitayama’s breath hitches in his throat as his fingers linger over the keys. _Pulling my shirt over my head_ , he types, clicking ‘send’ and then performing the action. It’s summertime but his arousal has his nipples erect, gasping as his fingers graze them. He pouts at his computer, knowing that nobody can see him, realizing he really wants someone – Master – to.

His own touch feels better when he relays it afterward, he learns. He lifts his hips to push down his pants and scratches his nails up the inside of his thigh, earning him a few red marks along with a deep, guttural moan, and he still feels it as he types about it.

_i wasn’t going to introduce pain until next time. good instinct, m-san._

‘Until next time’? Kitayama moans out loud at the thought, his touch becoming a little rougher on his own body because he can take it. He knows his own limits. Taking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he pinches as hard as he dares and his hips buck up so sharply that he almost falls out of his chair.

_Thank you, Master,_ he types shakily. _I’m naked now._

He squirms again as he waits for the reply. Somehow this is worse than if they were together for real, because now Kitayama has to wait even longer for instructions. His neglected cock is sticking straight out from his body, occasionally making contact with his own skin and he’s practically sitting on his own hands not to touch it.

_as am i. are you hard, m-san?_

_Very_.

_good. let’s see how much you can take. lube your fingers and work your way inside yourself. i want three. use only one hand so you can tell me your progress._

Grateful for his foresight, Kitayama grabs his lube from the desk and coats three of his fingers with it. The angle is even more awkward sitting in the chair like this, but he can fling his legs over the arms and balance that way. His body jerks when he touches his own rim, gently circling the muscle to relax it before pushing one finger inside. This is something that would be much different if someone else were doing it, but now it works in his favor. He can take his time stretching himself, gently inching in a second finger as his body opens up to the touch.

_One in, working on the second_ , he types one-handed. _This angle is really bad._

_buy a vibrator for next time. we’ll have fun with that._

The promise has Kitayama probing himself deeper, pushing the two fingers in and out as he tries to regulate his breathing and keep his body relaxed. His head falls over the back of the chair and his eyes fall shut, his mind filled with fantasies of the faceless Master approaching him and taking over, fingering him harder and harder until he hits that magical spot inside him and takes advantage of his body’s reaction to slip in the third finger.

A slow burn brings him back to reality and he learns that he actually did it himself, hips rocking to take his three fingers in deeper in desperate attempts to find that spot again and drive himself even crazier with want.

_Three. I imagined it was you and reached my prostate. I haven’t been able to do that alone before. It felt so good._

He’s panting now, very _very_ aware of his erection that has yet to be touched bouncing with each thrust of his fingers. More than anything he wishes Master were here right now, even if they both had to be disguised, just to finish this the most satisfying way he can.

_i wonder who you visualize when you think of me. i’ll give you a hint – i’ve been told i look like the drama actor yamamoto yuusuke._

Shit. Now there’s a face. Kitayama hopes he never has to work with the real Yamamoto Yuusuke as his fantasies become much more vivid, that ripped body hovering over him as his biceps contract with the force of his fingering. Kitayama’s free hand lifts up to touch his own lips as he thinks of those thick ones on his in a bruising kiss.

_Thank you, Master_ , he types, jerking so hard that he typos entirely too many times for so few words. _I don’t look like anyone famous, I don’t think._

He’s half tempted to say that he looks like Kitayama Hiromitsu from Kis-My-Ft2, but he doesn’t have enough nerve. He’s not a good liar, even if it’s the actual truth. Fujigaya would kill him, at the very least.

_that’s all right. i don’t need a mental image. your words are enough for me. please tell me how you feel, and don’t hold back._

Kitayama assumes this means he can typo, so he types something that he hopes is what he intends.

_I want to come so badly. So badly it aches. Each time I touch my prostate, it feels like I could come, but I can’t_. He pauses to push away the damp hair that has plastered itself to his face as his fantasies shift, Master pushing his legs up and kneeling between them to penetrate him. _Now I’m imagining you fucking me, fingering myself as hard as I can, and I really want to come._

The second his hand leaves the keyboard, it’s back on his chest, pinching his nipple again and arching into his own touch. He’s moaning freely now, the sounds echoing throughout his empty apartment, and he spares a thought to the neighbors before dragging his eyes back to the computer screen.

_you may touch yourself, but slowly. you are not permitted to come yet_.

Relief only lasts until Kitayama makes contact with his cock, which practically jumps into his hand. He spares a thought to how he’s going to type now that both of his hands are occupied, but then his body protests the slow movements and nothing could have quite prepared him for the way it feels to deny himself. It almost hurts, but he keeps on squeezing himself slowly and swiping his thumb along the head makes it even harder to stay restrained.

_endure it, m-san. you’re doing great. go as fast as you can without coming._

Kitayama whines, the noise of frustration strangely satisfying as he speeds up as much as he dares. He feels himself approach the brink of orgasm but stops long enough for it to subside, then starts up again. His breath is coming in wheezes, his chest rising and falling and completely flushed from what he can see. He doesn’t think he’s been this aroused in his life, and each twinge of denial makes it worse.

_now stop and tell me how you feel_.

_Stop everything?_ he asks, gaping at the computer.

_yes._

Kitayama removes both hands from himself, and his body keeps on rocking without him. He has to make fists to stop himself from ignoring orders and just getting off, because he’s _right there_. After wiping his fingers on a cloth, he finds that it’s even more difficult to type with both hands now than it had been with only one before.

_I am trembling. I feel like I’m about to explode. Please let me come, Master, please._

He stares at the computer with pleading eyes, like Master can see him, and if he thought the ‘currently typing’ message was a tease before, it’s nothing compared to right now.

_you’ve done well. i’m ready to finish too. let’s do it together. NOW!_

Kitayama can’t grab his cock fast enough, pumping so much that he skips a breath. He brings his arm up to his mouth to muffle the scream as he finally comes, an orgasm much more intense than normal crashing over him. He feels it slicking his fingers and he keeps going, jerking himself until there’s nothing left, and the chair barely holds him up as he falls completely limp and boneless.

It takes all of his effort to stay awake; Master would probably be displeased if he disappeared after all of that. He’s still shaking as he cleans himself up and glides his fingers along the keys once again.

_I am prone to falling asleep at any time, so if please do not get offended if I stop talking._

_noted. how do you feel now?_

Kitayama grins into his arm and wonders how stupid he looks. _Great. That was better than I expected._

He realizes after he hits ‘send’ that his message can be taken the wrong way, but Master replies before he can take it back. _i think so too. did you want to do it again then?_

_Yes_ , Kitayama answers right away. _But I’d like to look into buying a vibrator because my wrists fucking hurt now._

_you should get off the computer then. take it easy for the next couple days and i’ll email you a list of things to buy. they’re all available at the sex shop in harujuku._

_Yes, Master._ Kitayama feels another shiver at the submissive feeling. _Good night._

_good night, m-san. pleasant dreams._

Kitayama barely manages to carry himself to bed before falling asleep, let alone get dressed, but the images before his eyes are like he never left the computer.

*

“I need you to come with me to Harujuku to help me buy a vibrator,” Kitayama says clearly, and Fujigaya spits out his soda.

He stares unimpressed as Fujigaya reaches for a napkin and cleans up his mess. “The world is upside-down when you manage to shock _me_ with something sexual,” he mumbles. “Why Harujuku?”

“That’s where he said to go,” Kitayama answers simply, ignoring Fujigaya’s raised eyebrow. “Come on, I can’t go by myself. I don’t know what kind to get.”

“And you think I do?” Fujigaya exclaims, but his doe-eyed face only lasts until Kitayama clearly isn’t buying it. “Okay, fine, but there’s no way you and I can both walk into a sex shop in Harujuku and buy _anything_. Even with disguises, it will look like exactly what it _is_.”

Kitayama sighs. “Dress like a girl then.”

“Dress like a…” Fujigaya gapes at him. “You say that so easily! Did you forget that I would be doing this as a favor to _you_? Last I heard, you didn’t want to be like that with me, so that means you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”

“Do you still have the collar?” Kitayama asks, completely oblivious to Fujigaya’s tone.

Fujigaya’s tension falls slack at the question. “I… yes.”

“Wear it.” Kitayama offers a smile. “There are things I can do with you that don’t fall under the umbrella of S&M.”

“You play dirty, Mitsu,” Fujigaya mutters, his eyes already glazing over. “I mean, Hiromitsu-san.”

Smirking, Kitayama throws some cash down on the table before standing. “Come over whenever you’re ready. Oh, and Taisuke?”

“Yes?” Fujigaya asks, looking wary.

“I like short skirts.”

*

Fujigaya looks even cuter making a confused face at a remote-controlled bullet when it’s framed by curly hair tied in ribbons. “I don’t even know what this is.”

“You’re the worst sex toy shopping companion ever,” Kitayama tells him, tweaking his fake mustache. “I used to think you were the expert on all things in the bedroom.”

“Not when it comes to this shit!” Fujigaya hisses. “I just do it the regular way, you know. Insert tab A into slot B. Or slot C. Sometimes slot D-”

“How boring,” Kitayama interrupts him with an amused smirk. “I have a pretty detailed list, so we should be able to find everything.”

Fujigaya’s eyes get bigger with each item they place in their basket. “Nipple clamps? Are you sure it’s okay to use those alone?”

“Who says I’ll be alone?” Kitayama replies airily. “Maybe they’re for you.”

Fujigaya’s sputtering is worth the effort it takes to keep a straight face, and Kitayama slings an arm around his shoulders as he guides them around the dungeon section. His fingers naturally gravitate towards the collar and Fujigaya stretches out his neck, his expression relaxing as he turns toward Kitayama with heavy eyes.

“I thought you didn’t want to have this kind of relationship with me, Hiromitsu-san,” Fujigaya says quietly, and his gaze is even darker in the dimly lit room.

“We’re not,” Kitayama tells him. “I’m joking. It’s perfectly safe to use them by myself.”

Fujigaya’s pout is enticing enough for Kitayama to turn away, his attention unfortunately landing on the wall of floggers and paddles. Naturally Fujigaya follows his line of sight and steps towards the display, pulling a purple velvet flogger from the wall and testing it on his wrist.

“It matches your dress,” Kitayama points out, and Fujigaya’s eyes turn devious. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not actually sure,” Fujigaya replies, then snaps his wrist to flog the air next to him. “Hmm.”

Kitayama watches as he puts it back on the shelf and returns to his side. “Something you want to tell me, Taisuke?”

“Just that you are very unattractive with a mustache,” Fujigaya replies with a grin. “Please don’t ever grow one for real.”

Rolling his eyes, Kitayama leads them through the rest of the store. The vibrator is the easiest purchase, something small and simple with a long handle, and Kitayama’s body is already itching to use it. As he checks out, head down, his hardest decision of the day is whether to include Fujigaya in his play session or not.

_i’d like you to think about having your friend act as a medium for us,_ Master had emailed him earlier. _he can act upon my words and it will be like i am there with you. this is the closest we will be able to get like this. if you don’t think you can trust him, remember the secret he’s keeping for you._

“Dying to know what’s on your mind,” Fujigaya asks once they get in the car, immediately yanking off his wig.

“Your real hair looks girlier,” is all Kitayama says, and Fujigaya punches him in the arm as Kitayama pulls out of the parking lot and heads back to his place.

Tension is thick in the air the second they walk through the door, Fujigaya standing with his hands on his hips in his ridiculous dress while Kitayama carefully pulls out the items. He examines each one as he opens it, removing the packaging and setting them out on his kitchen table like a buffet of bondage torture.

“Psst,” Fujigaya says facetiously, and against his better judgment, Kitayama turns to face him. The fake mustache is ripped off his face, and Fujigaya’s pink lips grin at him. “Much better.”

It’s an instinct to kiss him, to sink his fingers into Fujigaya’s thick, fluffy hair and pull him into his mouth, and Fujigaya doesn’t fight him. In fact, hands grip his waist and pull him closer, one leg wrapping around his thigh and Kitayama reaches down to take advantage of the short skirt he’d requested. Fujigaya doesn’t do anything half-assed and this includes dressing like a girl; not only are his legs silky and smooth, but a fringe of lace greets Kitayama’s fingertips and he grunts at the realization that the other man had actually worn a garter.

“Keep going,” Fujigaya whispers against his lips, and the concept of Fujigaya telling _him_ what to do is so foreign that Kitayama complies without thinking. He continues up Fujigaya’s thigh and only touches skin, groping the flesh of his ass as it occurs to him what’s missing.

“Did you honestly think it was a good idea to go to the sex shop in a dress with nothing underneath?” he asks, his voice coming out as more of a growl as he backs Fujigaya up to the kitchen table.

“I am full of good ideas,” Fujigaya replies, and Kitayama kisses the smirk off his face. He’s tempted to take him right here on the table, but this isn’t about sex and if he’s going to properly consider Master’s request, he has to see what Fujigaya can do as far as domination goes.

“Can you do something for me?” he whispers against Fujigaya’s lips, gently though it still sounds rough, and he feels Fujigaya shiver as he nods. “I want you to use two of the things I bought on me.”

The gasp Fujigaya emits is very real. “Which ones?”

“Whichever two you’d like.” Kitayama fingers the sparkly pink collar around Fujigaya’s neck, rocking against him when Fujigaya slumps in his arms. “I want to see if you can do it.”

“Of course I can do it,” Fujigaya says, but his tone isn’t haughty at all. It’s calm, confident, and Kitayama’s heart beats faster with anticipation as he leaves his fate in his friend’s hands. He watches Fujigaya lean back on the table to survey the items, taking his time considering which to choose while Kitayama grows more aroused with each passing second.

Predictably Fujigaya picks the handcuffs, lifting them with one finger. They’re cushioned with leopard print and Kitayama’s wrists throb at the realization, though not in pain. The next thing Fujigaya eyes is the vibrator, glancing back at Kitayama – who nods – before reaching for it. Kitayama lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as he looks from the two selections back to Fujigaya’s eyes and then down to his collar and dress.

“Take me to bed,” he says evenly, and Fujigaya swiftly hops off of the table and links their fingers together once again as he leads him down the hall, this time to Kitayama’s bedroom.

It feels strange to be laid down onto his own bed by someone else, especially Fujigaya who’s dressed like a girl complete with smooth thighs that flex under Kitayama’s fingers as they straddle his waist. “Relax, Hiromitsu-san,” Fujigaya says in this breathy voice that goes straight to Kitayama’s cock. “I’ve got you.”

His words are more reassuring than they should be; he doesn’t even jerk when Fujigaya lifts his hands over his head. He watches him as he works, taking in the sweet face and gentle eyes that Kitayama only sees like this, helpfully arching when Fujigaya moves to pull up his shirt. He feels lips on his chest while his eyes are covered, a pleasant surprise that pulls a soft moan from his throat, and Fujigaya looks pleased with himself when Kitayama can see him again.

Fujigaya’s hands cover both of Kitayama’s, pinning them against the pillow as his tongue paves an aimless path over Kitayama’s chest. He groans at the first flick of his nipple and Fujigaya does it again, fingers tightening as the tension between them grows even more. He hears a defined _click_ , followed by another, and belatedly realizes his wrists are now cuffed and he’s unable to move. This knowledge alone sends surges of heat through his body, making every single touch from Fujigaya feel more intense.

That tongue returns to his mouth and Kitayama’s arms automatically reach for him, halted by the handcuffs and the restraint has him kissing Fujigaya even harder. Fujigaya’s hands fumble on his belt and Kitayama feels a swell of pride knowing that Fujigaya is flustered because of him, because of what Kitayama wants him to do for him.

“You’re doing well,” he whispers between kisses, and Fujigaya’s touch becomes more focused. He barely has Kitayama’s pants open before a hand sneaks inside, fingers wrapping around the thick length and pulling his hips into a slow roll. Kitayama gasps into his mouth, unaccustomed to the immediate contact, but Fujigaya takes it away as soon as he gives it.

Kitayama’s heavy eyelids lift to see Fujigaya smirking at him, his hands pushing his pants and boxers down over his hips and completely off his legs. Then his mouth is on the inside of Kitayama’s thigh and Kitayama jumps, legs spreading automatically and it’s only embarrassing until Fujigaya reaches up to roll his balls in his palm.

“Can I?” Fujigaya asks simply, and Kitayama nods without even knowing what he’s agreeing to. Right now, with the way he feels, he’d let Fujigaya do anything to him.

He figures it out when those lips and tongue move up, arms looping around his thigh until he’s flicking his tongue along the rim, relaxing him during his initial squirming. Kitayama has seen this in adult movies but never imagined it could feel so good, particularly when Fujigaya loosens the muscle enough to push his tongue in and out of Kitayama’s body.

“Fuck,” Kitayama swears, grabbing at his own hands for lack of anything else. His hair is stuck to his face again and he can’t do anything about it short of shaking his head from side to side, which gives him minimal tension release from Fujigaya’s ministrations.

A buzzing sound has him falling still, instantly clamping up, and he hears Fujigaya chuckling as he licks him open again. Kitayama braces himself, but he still jerks at the first touch of the vibrating tip to his rim. That’s all Fujigaya gives him at first, though, and he’s grateful for the thoughtful way Fujigaya’s easing him into it as he touches him three more times with the vibrator before slowly twisting it inside him.

Kitayama arches, oddly relaxed as the vibrator enters him easily, already slicked with lube. Fujigaya buries it deep inside him and Kitayama’s whole body convulses when it grazes his prostate, infinitely better than trying to use his own fingers. Kitayama doesn’t know how he lived before this moment as he thrashes on the bed, his only restraint the handcuffs, and he lets out a loud noise when his cock smacks his abdomen and he’s reminded how aroused he is.

“You’re so fucking hot right now,” Fujigaya’s voice breaks through his haze, and Kitayama drags his eyes open to look at him. His vision is blurry but he can still see Fujigaya’s heated stare, the way he’s biting his bottom lip as he slowly pushes the vibrator in and out, driving Kitayama crazy from the pressure building inside him.

“Get on me,” Kitayama forces out in a rough growl, and Fujigaya reaches for the lube again.

“Just a second,” he replies, sounding just as strained as Kitayama feels, and Kitayama’s glad his eyes are still open to witness Fujigaya’s face as he dips his other hand between his legs and stretches himself. He’s still working the vibrator and Kitayama’s a little amazed at his multi-tasking skills, then remembers who this is and how Fujigaya is competent at anything that involves sex.

The next thing he knows, Fujigaya’s straddling him again, his dress hiked up around his waist as he leans back to keep a hold of the vibrator between Kitayama’s legs. Kitayama watches his cock disappear into Fujigaya’s body as the other man lowers himself slowly, a choked moan preceding the feeling of a tight body around him. He groans out loud, hips snapping up into the friction while at the same time pushing back against the vibrating stimulation. Fujigaya hits him deep again and he sees white, thrusting as fast as he can and feeling like he’s ready to explode.

“Hiromitsu-san,” he hears, using all of his energy to focus his eyes on the man riding him, though he can tell that Fujigaya’s taken his own cock into his hand from the way his muscles constrict even more. “I can’t wait much longer…”

It occurs to Kitayama that Fujigaya is waiting for permission to come, which has him pushing up even harder as the combination of everything brings him right to the edge. “Come,” he rasps out, his voice strangled, but Fujigaya’s shrill moan shows that he heard loud and clear and all Kitayama knows after that is heightened ecstasy.

Fujigaya doesn’t take out the vibrator right away, leaving Kitayama trembling with aftershocks until he whines and flails enough for Fujigaya to finally stop. Breathing feels like a commodity right now, his chest rising and falling as he gulps down air and attempts to bring his mind to a place where he can function normally again.

“Wow,” Fujigaya says quietly, and Kitayama grunts his agreement. “I can see why you prefer this kind of scene, though I have to admit I don’t like your hands bound like that.”

Remembering the handcuffs, Kitayama stretches enough to hold his wrists out for Fujigaya to uncuff. “Of course. You like to be touched.”

“Yeah.” Fujigaya gently rubs each of Kitayama’s wrists with his thumbs as they’re released, and it’s such a sweet gesture that Kitayama pulls him down for a kiss, hands trembling as they become accustomed to being used again. “And you can’t play with the collar.”

At the mention of it, Kitayama’s fingers gravitate there, the leather making his fingers tingle as Fujgiaya sprawls out on top of him and entwines their legs together. The kiss ends naturally and Fujigaya rests his head on Kitayama’s still heaving chest, content to just lay there while Kitayama calms down.

“Master suggested you be a medium,” Kitayama finally says, his words coming out as mumbles into Fujigaya’s hair. “He tells you what to do and you do it to me.”

“Like what we just did?” Fujigaya replies curiously.

“Yeah, sort of.” Kitayama frowns as he thinks of the main difference between Master and Fujigaya. “He likes to deny me, though. I don’t know if you have that much self-restraint.”

Fujigaya snorts. “I definitely do not. I am a full supporter of instant gratification.”

“You should try it sometime. It’s a completely different orgasm.”

“Yeah?” Fujigaya presses his lips to Kitayama’s neck. “If you made me do it, I wouldn’t say the safe word.”

“It’s not the same that way,” Kitayama tells him. “It’s not me getting off on denying you – it’s us both getting off on denying ourselves. Imagine jerking off as fast as you can and continuously stopping right before you come.”

Fujigaya squirms. “That sounds like pure hell.”

“It is, but it’s amazing.”

“I could still be like a medium though,” Fujigaya says slowly, dragging his lips up to Kitayama’s ear. He drops his voice to a whisper and Kitayama shivers from it. “Reading what he says and typing for you would be helpful, right? At least then you could use both hands.”

Just the thought of having Fujigaya in the room during a session with Master has Kitayama feeling anxious. “You’d want to watch me do that?”

“Fuck yes,” Fujigaya answers promptly, and Kitayama has to admire his honesty and complete lack of shame.

“Even if I say you can’t touch yourself until we’re done?”

“Even then.” Fujigaya leans on his elbows and gives Kitayama a cute idol face, which is much more dubious with sex hair. “I’ll be too busy playing messenger, right? As long as I get to come afterwards.”

“I think we can work something out,” Kitayama says, his voice taking on a promising tone, and Fujigaya’s eyes reflect it.

*

He has no idea what to expect. It’s Saturday night, the sun long since retired for the day, and Kitayama’s not alone in front of his computer. Fujigaya’s with him, looking completely normal in a T-shirt and jeans with his hair pulled back and a calm expression on his face. But most notably, he’s not wearing a collar.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kitayama asks.

“Are _you_ sure?” Fujigaya shoots back. “You look terrified.”

“I’m just nervous,” Kitayama explains, and the words sound foreign on his own lips. “Somehow this seems more trusting than letting you handcuff me.”

“Don’t worry,” Fujigaya says, flashing a bright smile. “I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”

“I’m not-” Kitayama starts, intending to deny the accusation, but now that he thinks about it that’s exactly what he’s afraid of. That Fujigaya will do or say something to ruin the scene and make Master regret allowing him to participate. “You’ll really take it seriously?”

“I really will.” Fujigaya nudges him in the arm, and Kitayama smiles despite himself. “It’s important to you, so I’ll do what you say even if I’m not collared.” He pauses. “Either way it’s still my choice, right?”

Kitayama nods. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

They both stare at the computer screen as it turns on, and instantly the chat box titled ‘master of x’ pops up.

_good evening, m-san. is your friend with us tonight?_

Kitayama bites his lip as he types a response. _Yes. He has agreed to communicate between us so that I can close my eyes and use both of my hands._

_that is nice of him. how may i address him?_

_T-kun_. Kitayama doesn’t send the message right away, turning to give Fujigaya a questioning look. Fujigaya nods, and Kitayama hits ‘send’.

_pleased to make your acquaintance, t-kun. i understand you’ve been tending to m-san these past few weeks. i thank you for your dedication. i’d like you to type from now on._

Kitayama pushes the keyboard towards Fujigaya, who takes it silently. They haven’t exchanged a word since the computer turned on, and somehow that makes this intense already.

_yw. i am happy 2 b of help._

“Must you type like that,” Kitayama grumbles, and Fujigaya shushes him like they’re actually listening to something.

_m-san, please lay on your back wherever you are comfortable. my instructions from now on will be spoken to you by t-kun._

Kitayama’s not sure why his first instinct is to look at Fujigaya, but Fujigaya’s already looking at him and offers a small smile that in itself feels like more support than an arena full of fans cheering. He nods once, more to himself than to anyone else, and scoots back from the desk chair onto his bed. Stretching is marginally relaxing, except that his heart is still beating in his ears and the sound of the keys clicking has every single one of his nerves on edge.

“Ready?” Fujigaya asks, and Kitayama nods again, biting his lip in anticipation.

It’s already different, the words normally typed by Master read aloud by Fujigaya, and Kitayama’s amazed at how easy it is to separate the two. Fujigaya’s using his lower register and it’s almost as sexy as his higher moans, but Kitayama still sees Master behind his closed eyelids, watching him as he slowly takes off his clothes as instructed.

“Spread your legs and tease yourself with the vibrator,” Fujigaya says, his voice flowing calmly over the dirty words. “Don’t put it inside yet.”

“Yes, Master,” Kitayama mumbles, the first time he’s spoken it out loud, and the sounds of rapid keystrokes are joined by familiar buzzing. He runs the tip of the vibrator down his chest and around his hips, then up and down the inside of each thigh before chancing a bump of his balls and moaning out loud at the way it feels.

“Now lube it and press it inside you slowly, easing yourself open, and -” Fujigaya stops abruptly with what sounds like a gasp. “And take a fistful of your hair and pull as hard as you can.”

Kitayama’s moans get louder as he follows directions, swirling the vibrator around his rim until he can push it in. This is much better than using his fingers, but he goes slowly as instructed, his other hand inching up the back of his neck into his own hair while he braces himself for what he’s about to do. His fingers are already tightening from the pressure, making his scalp sting, but that’s only a prelude to the searing pain that courses through him when he gathers his strength and _yanks_.

His body writhes as his head throbs to a dull ache, but his hips are canting by their own means toward the vibrator that’s now all the way inside him. Kitayama is just holding it still while he moves against it, his body out of his own control as he turns from side to side and moans out his breaths.

“How do you feel?” Fujigaya reads, and Kitayama wonders how he’s actually supposed to speak like this.

“I… I…” he swallows thickly, his fingers still tangled in his own hair. “I can’t… words.”

More typing sounds, then Fujigaya chuckles. “Let’s try this another way. Did you like the pain?”

“Yes,” Kitayama answers immediately. “Thank you, Master.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath as Fujigaya conveys Kitayama’s gratitude. Kitayama manages to calm down enough to lay still, or as still as he can manage while pushing a vibrator in and out of his body, and his other hand rubs his scalp as he awaits more instructions.

“I wonder if you can come untouched,” Fujigaya says, and now Kitayama hears a waver in his voice. “Put on the nipple clamps and set the voltage as high as you dare.”

“Oh, my god,” Kitayama breathes, reaching for his sex shop purchases they’d laid out before starting. “I don’t think I can come like that.”

“Should I tell him that?” Fujigaya asks, and now it’s really him speaking. Kitayama hears the implied offer to cover for him, pretend like he never said anything, but as much as Kitayama appreciates the gesture, it’s not necessary.

“Tell him everything. Tell him how much I’m trembling as I do this. Tell him how hard I am, so hard that it’s leaking.”

“Shit,” Fujigaya says under his breath, then returns to his low reading voice. “Let’s try it, M-san. If it hurts too much you can stop, but if it hurts too _good_ I want you to keep going.”

“Yes, Master,” Kitayama replies, shakily applying the clamps and arching at the initial pinch of them alone. He takes the control in his hand, squeezes his eyes shut, and makes sure the knob is at the lowest setting before turning it on.

The result is jolting, but not unbearable by any means. He arches on the bed, his wrist flicking faster on the vibrator as he feels it build up inside him, and right now he actually feels like he could come like this, without any direct stimulation to his cock.

“Higher,” Fujigaya says, and Kitayama’s not entirely sure that he’s speaking only for Master anymore. “You can do it.”

Another notch on the dial and Kitayama’s voice turns into a continuous moan, one that rises in pitch with each surge of electricity through the clamps, and if he thought anything he’d done before was intense, that’s nothing compared to right now.

“How do you feel?” Fujigaya asks.

Kitayama answers with a string of incomprehensible syllables, his body thrashing on the bed hard enough for the mattress to bounce him right back. Sweat runs down his forehead and chest, his hair once again stuck to his face and he makes no effort to push it away now that he can.

“Are you close?”

Nodding furiously, Kitayama tries to regulate his breathing and can’t. He needs to come soon or he’ll hyperventilate. It’s all too much, the currents flooding his sensitive nipples while his body convulses without satisfaction. It’s physically impossible for him to calm down, but just like Fujigaya said earlier, it’s of his own volition. _He_ controls the elements that are driving him to this point, not anyone else.

And he’s the one who’s not stopping it.

“Now press the vibrator right against your prostate and don’t pull back no matter how much you want to.”

Kitayama’s whine prefaces his movement, his hand shaking as he pushes the vibrator deep inside him and ignores his instinct to let up. What happens next is indescribable, the pressure accumulating to the point where he doesn’t think he can make it any longer, and suddenly he’s hit by an avalanche of sensation that pulls from the depth of his groin, spreading all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes and shooting right out through his cock.

Both the buzzing and the voltage ceases without his control and he opens his eyes to see Fujigaya hovering over him, looking a cross between worried and incredibly turned on. Kitayama looks at him for a second before he finds his voice, feeling slowly returning to his body. “Thanks.”

Fujigaya just nods as he lifts Kitayama up, guiding him back to the computer desk where Master’s chat box is blinking at him. The last message he sees is _please get him for me now_. Kitayama’s curious to read through their backlog, just to see how Fujigaya described his actions and how they typed to each other, but he’s not quick to relive this experience right away and is doing well enough to lift his own head at this moment in time.

_Thank you, Master. I still can’t see straight._

_you’re welcome, m-san. your friend t-kun is very cooperative and polite. i see why you like him so much._

Kitayama snorts at Fujigaya being ‘polite’, but he can see why someone with limited interaction would think that. _He has his moments_ , he replies.

_he seemed to enjoy that as much as you did. he was very open about telling me so. please thank him for both of us. with your mouth._

_What?_ Kitayama replies, looking over his shoulder to where Fujigaya is awkwardly perched on his bed, giving him his privacy.

_if you scroll up through our chat, you’ll see that i had quite the conversation with him as well. he said he hadn’t been in your mouth yet, then went on a tangent about how enticing your mouth is while in the throes of passion. i think you should give him what he wants, as a thank you present for communicating for us._

_Yes, Master,_ Kitayama replies, surreptitiously licking his lips. _I haven’t done that before, but I will do my best._

_you can do it. just go slowly and don’t take in more than you can comfortably fit. use your hand to make up the difference. suck on the head and press your tongue into the slit. i’ll be over here imagining you doing it to me._

Kitayama swallows hard, pushing back the keyboard as he turns to face Fujigaya. “Taisuke, come here.”

A grin breaks out on Fujigaya’s face as he crosses the room and plops right on Kitayama’s naked lap, curling up and resting his head on Kitayama’s shoulder. It’s so cute that Kitayama can’t help but kiss him, clinging to the physical contact after a whole session without it, and his hand drops down to grope Fujigaya through his pants, finding him as hard as a rock.

“Mm,” Fujigaya says, hips rocking into the touch. “I wasn’t sure if we’d be doing anything else tonight or not. That was so hot I nearly came in my pants, twice.”

“Yeah?” Kitayama asks, smirking when Fujigaya nods. “Master said I should reward you for helping us out.”

Fujigaya leans back, his eyes lighting up. “Oh?”

“Switch me places,” Kitayama says, not giving the other man much of a choice as he slips out from underneath him and kneels on the floor. Fujigaya figures it out immediately and parts his legs enough for Kitayama to fit between them, his hand lowering to brush Kitayama’s damp hair out of his face.

“God, Mitsu,” Fujigaya whispers, arching as Kitayama unfastens his jeans and pushes them down enough to suffice. “I kind of like this guy after all.”

Kitayama snorts and leans forward, giving Fujigaya’s cock a tentative flick and watching his lungs visibly fill with air as he inhales sharply. He feels the length harden even more against his tongue and it feels exhilarating, making someone else feel good like this, giving him enough courage to part his lips to suck in the head.

Fingers tangle in his hair and he whimpers, the ache from his previous escapade returning from a simple tug, and Fujigaya rushes to gently rub his scalp. It’s nice and soothing and he moves his head down further, rocking back and forth and taking in more and more with each cycle. Fujigaya’s noises are faint and encouraging and Kitayama likes how it feels when it twitches in his mouth. Hips roll towards him but it’s not too much, and Kitayama finds that he can fit the whole thing as the head hits the back of his throat.

“Mitsu, fuck,” Fujigaya gasps, and now his hand drops to Kitayama’s jaw. “Pull back a bit. I’m going to come.”

Kitayama follows directions and feels Fujigaya pulse in his mouth, followed by a few squirts of salty fluid and he doesn’t think twice about swallowing. Fujigaya’s eyes slit open and Kitayama watches him watch him, licking his lips as Fujigaya’s cock softens and falls out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” Fujigaya mumbles, falling back against the chair in a slump, and then he turns his head towards the computer. “Or should I be thanking him? Oh.”

“Oh?” Kitayama questions. He’s in no rush to sit back up, content to rest his head on Fujigaya’s thigh while Fujigaya strokes his hair.

“He signed off, but before he left he said ‘T-kun is welcome to join us anytime. I’m glad you have him to take care of you.'”

“I’m glad too,” Kitayama says out loud, and Fujigaya smiles down at him.

*

The last place Kitayama wants to be is at the club, but even he has to admit that spending all of his minimal time in front a computer isn’t healthy.

“Besides,” Fujigaya hisses as they step inside. “You know how I get when I drink. You’re guaranteed to get laid.”

“I don’t have to waste my time watching straight people grind on a dancefloor to get you into bed,” Kitayama points out, but Fujigaya just elbows him before heading to the bar.

“There they are!” he exclaims, and sure enough, Kitayama recognizes most of KAT-TUN on the stools, talking loudly and playing beer pong.

Fujigaya greets Kame like he’s trying to crawl into his lap, and Kitayama’s only a little jealous. Nobody bats an eyelash when either of those two do anything remotely gay in public. They’re still the most sought after men in their respective groups by fangirls. He could probably get away with it too, but that’s not what he’s frustrated about anyway. His bitterness at not being able to meet Master in real life is really eating at him, it seems.

“Oh good, a chill companion,” Ueda greets him, shaking his head at the other three members of his group. “Since Nakamaru bailed tonight, I’ve had to put up with them all by myself.”

Kitayama chuckles. He’d always gotten along well with this one. “What’s Nakamaru up to?”

“Studying,” Ueda replies as he takes a sip of his beer. Either he just got it or he’s been nursing it all night; there’s only a small bit gone. “He’s going to graduate next year.”

He’s speaking proudly of the other man, and Kitayama smiles at the warm feeling. “You guys seem to be really close.”

“Sometimes we give a crap about each other,” Ueda tells him. “When it’s important, you know? When Taguchi got dumped, we all pretended to laugh at his jokes for a week.”

Kitayama looks down the bar at Taguchi, who seems to be throwing back shot after shot. “Now he just sucks at beer pong.”

“I don’t know why he bothers,” Ueda says. “I think he and Koki have a neverending battle of who can get drunker faster. It’s only funny when I don’t have to drive them home.”

“Are you driving tonight?” Kitayama asks.

Ueda grins. “Nope.”

They fall quiet after that, a comfortable silence backed by the loud hip-hop music and crowds of people. Kame and Fujigaya are out dancing, mostly with each other, and Koki and Taguchi are rating every woman who walks by based on whether they had a chance of hitting it or not. After a while, Kitayama notices Ueda pulling out his phone to send a message, and Kitayama grabs his out of habit.

There are no messages at first, but while he’s staring at it, one shows up. _is your evening out going well? i daresay that straight clubs are boring as fuck. and bdsm clubs are only fun with a partner._

Kitayama purses his lips at the thought of going to an actual BDSM club, but holds his straight face. _Straight clubs are boring, but at least I have someone to talk to._

_t-kun?_ Master asks almost immediately.

_Nope,_ Kitayama replies. _A senpai. T-kun is out whoring on the dancefloor._

Kitayama laughs as he looks up and finds his words to be true. Fujigaya seems to have found a girl who is almost as slutty as he is, eating her face as he basically fucks her through their clothes. The more he watches, the hotter it becomes and he tears his attention away before he humiliates himself in public.

_are there any tables in this establishment? dark ones?_

A chill curls up his spine at the question, and Kitayama looks around inconspicuously. _I think I see some, down in the back. Why do you ask?_

Kitayama’s drink arrives then, not ordered by him, and he frowns at the straight liquor on the rocks. Fujigaya must want to walk home, he thinks as he takes a sip and makes a face.

“Not to your tastes?” Ueda asks, and Kitayama almost jumps – he’d forgotten the other man was there.

“Not particularly,” Kitayama replies, then leans back to flag down the bartender to ask for some maraschino cherries.

Ueda laughs at that, but he doesn’t say anything. Kitayama returns to his phone, curious as to Master’s response, and it takes all of his power not to physically react when he reads it.

_i wonder if you could hide it in public, under the table. all of those people around, none of them really paying attention to you, at least as long as you don’t give them a reason to. you could have an orgasm in a room full of people without anyone knowing._

“Do you like live music?” Ueda asks suddenly, and it takes Kitayama a second to find his brain in his pants. “There’s a bar nearby that only books local rock bands. We’d have to go in disguise, but it’s a much more pleasant atmosphere.”

“I drove us here,” Kitayama says apologetically. “Otherwise I’d jump at the chance to leave.”

“Hey,” Ueda calls to Koki, who leans back to lay on his arm and grin drunkenly up at him. “Tell Kame he’s taking Taipi home. Kitayama-kun and I are leaving.”

“He’ll take him home all right,” Koki sniggers, and Ueda rolls his eyes. “You two have fun being lame.”

“Yes, because we’re the lame ones here,” Ueda says calmly as he sets his almost full beer on the counter and hops off the stool, turning to face Kitayama with a friendly smile. “You ready?”

“Just a second,” Kitayama replies, scooting off his own stool after shooting off a message to Master.

_As hot as that sounds, I don’t think I can do something like that in public. We’re getting ready to leave anyway. Here’s to hoping rock bars aren’t as boring as straight clubs._

He makes it a few steps before he realizes Ueda isn’t behind him. Concerned, he turns around to see Ueda standing right where he had been, staring at his phone with no expression on his face. “Ueda-kun?”

Ueda sucks his lips into his mouth briefly as he pockets his phone, then shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

Kitayama doesn’t know much about Ueda’s personal life, just that he usually keeps it to himself even if something is bothering him. They’re not nearly close enough for Kitayama to worry about him, so he tries to forget about it as they push their way out of the club and into the warm summer night.

“It’s a rather far walk,” Ueda breaks the silence, which is more prominent now that they’re outside. “Do you mind driving?”

“Not at all,” Kitayama replies, leading them to his car and unlocking the doors. As they settle inside, Kitayama checks his phone and sees no messages. He frowns at Master’s obvious disapproval of his response. _I’m sorry, Master_ , he types quickly. _I’ll be home later tonight, if you’re still awake_.

He drives carefully, more focused than usual despite the small amount of alcohol he’d ingested. Ueda lounges in the passenger seat, singing along with the radio, and Kitayama feels comfortable with him despite their distance. It’s been awhile since they’ve worked together, and now that Kis-My-Ft2 has debuted they probably won’t work together again. It’s a sad thought, after so many years of touring, and Kitayama’s suddenly glad that Fujigaya had dragged him out tonight, if just to reunite with old friends.

His phone buzzes as he approaches a stoplight, thankfully red. He’s dying to know if Master is upset with him and why. Trying not to let his anxiety rush him, he slows to a stop at the light and slips his phone out of his pocket enough to read the message.

_i hope you don’t fuck like you drive._

His heart stops. He’s never mentioned his careful driving habits to Master, nor has he described his car or even what part of the country he lives in. Nothing about that message makes sense, except that everything about it does.

Slowly he turns to look at Ueda, who’s already watching him. He doesn’t even register the car behind him honking until it passes him, a few middle fingers directed at him on the way. His mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. This happens two more times before he finally manages to say the only thing that’s on his mind. “You don’t look like Yamamoto Yuusuke.”

Ueda laughs, shaving off a small corner of the tense atmosphere in the car, and he points to the light. “You should go before it turns red again.”

Unable to think clearly, Kitayama just concentrates on driving and finds his words. “How… how did this happen?”

“Fate,” Ueda answers simply. “Pull over if you’re going to freak out. You’re making me nervous.”

Kitayama turns into the first parking lot he finds, a restaurant that has already closed for the night. Once the car stops, he falls back against his seat as he replays every single thing he’s ever admitted to this person online, only to find out it’s actually someone he _knows_.

“I never thought-” they both begin, and Kitayama can’t help but laugh with Ueda as they both stop and gesture for the other to go first.

“I think we were both going to say the same thing anyway,” Ueda says. “I never thought I’d actually meet you.”

Kitayama feels cold, like it’s the entire Internet who learned all of his dirty secrets, not just Ueda. “I don’t know what to say.”

“The way I see it, we have two options.” Ueda rubs his fingers together as he talks, the movement attracting Kitayama’s attention. “We can cut it off and pretend it never happened, or we can get on our knees and thank every deity in the sky that it did.”

The second option has Kitayama lifting his eyes to meet Ueda’s, and the way Ueda instantly frowns makes his heart ache a little.

“Unless you’re disappointed that it’s me,” Ueda goes on. “Which I can understand, I suppose.”

“I’m not…” Kitayama stops short as he gathers his thoughts. “I’m just really _embarrassed_ right now. What even made you make the connection?”

“Believe it or not, it was Taipi,” Ueda replies. “The minute you said ‘T-kun’ was whoring on the dancefloor, I had my suspicions. And my hopes.”

“Hopes?” Kitayama repeats. “You wanted it to be me?”

Ueda visibly swallows. “Didn’t you want to know who I was? Maybe I just like to want what I can’t have, but each time we messaged I felt this emptiness that I didn’t think could ever be filled because our relationship could never progress from anonymous acquaintances.”

“Yes, I know what you mean, but…” Kitayama pauses to take a breath, then rests his hands on the steering wheel. “I can’t talk to you as freely as before.”

“Why not?” Ueda asks. “We don’t work together anymore. Only Taipi will know, and that’s if you decide to tell him. I was incredibly jealous of you two, by the way. And even moreso now that I know it’s you and him.”

Kitayama tilts his head in confusion. “Why?”

“Because you deserve better than him.” Ueda sighs. “Taipi fucks anything that moves and molds himself to whomever anyone wants him to be. He makes a good pet, sure, but only until he gets bored and looks for something new and exciting.”

Kitayama frowns as he recalls why he never pursued anything serious with Fujigaya. ‘Serious’ was only in his vocabulary on an hourly basis. “I don’t know what to say,” he says again.

“Say what you feel,” Ueda says, nodding along with his words like he’s convincing himself as well. “Always say what you feel.”

“I feel like it won’t be the same now,” Kitayama blurts out. “I feel like the trust I’ve spent months building with you is severed, that I can’t share this part of myself with you anymore because that safety net of anonymity is gone.”

“Kitayama-kun,” Ueda says firmly. “You are completely missing the point here.”

“Which is?” Kitayama asks, gaping incredulously at his senpai who is entirely too calm about all of this.

“That we can be like this for real now.”

Kitayama’s tension lessens as the meaning of those words sink in. Flashes from their past sessions shine behind his eyelids, all those times he wished that Master was there with him, and now he’s sitting in the passenger seat of his car.

“Oh.”

“If you don’t want to, I understand,” Ueda says, lowering his eyes. “Sometimes people just want things to stay in their fantasies and that’s okay. What you did with Taipi is a lot different than what I am offering you, and-”

“What exactly are you offering me?” Kitayama asks, his voice coming out steadier than he feels.

“At this point?” Ueda pauses, looking like he’s having an internal battle with himself, and Kitayama feels comforted at not being the only one. “I’ve spent a long time alone, Kitayama-kun. My last sub was five years ago. I’m not getting any younger, and I have no interest in settling for a woman. As long as you indulge me from time to time, I’m offering you whatever you want.”

Kitayama blinks. “Indulge?”

“Be submissive for me,” Ueda clarifies, and it’s so different hearing these things from his voice instead of on a computer screen. “Nothing too kinky, unless you want it that way. I actually like it better with just words. Most of BDSM is all in your head anyway. Toys are just that – toys. Both pain and pleasure can be given just fine from one’s own hands.”

Discussing it has Kitayama recalling the more explicit things they’ve gone together, and he tries not to visibly squirm. “What if I told you I wanted to take you home right now?”

Ueda’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes are brighter. “I’d say that I live closer.”

*

He expects Ueda to ravish him the minute he walks inside, but all he does is stand behind him. “Safe word?”

“Banana,” Kitayama replies automatically, already shivering from the anticipation. “Do you still want me to call you ‘Master’?”

“No,” Ueda answers firmly, and Kitayama nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels fingertips on his bare arms. “That was for anonymous purposes only. Now that you are aware of who I am, I’d like you to speak my name and recognize it when I make you feel good. Any variation of my name is fine, just show respect.”

“Ueda-san,” Kitayama says, and he hears Ueda’s breath hitch behind him. “Ueda-san, please be good to me.”

“Of course.” Feather-light touches drop to his abdomen, under his shirt, and Kitayama’s back arches at the contact. “Tell me what you liked the most from the list I gave you.”

“I-” Kitayama’s breath is stolen as thick lips press against his neck, his arousal flaring at being on the other end of this in person for the first time. “I didn’t get to try them all, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ueda assures him, and now his nails are raking up Kitayama’s sides. “We can try them together if you want. For now, let’s just go with what you’re sure you like.”

“I like the vibrator a lot,” Kitayama says, his face heating at saying these things out loud. “And the nipple clamps. The handcuffs were fun, though it would be better with you. And – _ah_.”

His voice trails off as Ueda reaches up to take both of his nipples between his fingers, rubbing them into hard nubs. “How about the pain? The denial?”

“Pulling my hair really hurt, but I liked how it felt,” Kitayama gasps out. “The denial was great. I think I like that the most.”

“Good,” Ueda says, and Kitayama lets out a soft cry as his nipples are pinched roughly. “That’s my favorite part, too.”

Kitayama slumps a little as Ueda’s teeth graze his neck, but he’s close enough to hold him up. “I’d like to experience more, Ueda-san, if you’ll allow me to.”

“Next time,” Ueda whispers, his tone full of promise, and Kitayama’s so filled with lust that he can’t focus on anything but that voice. “Since you like to lead so much, I’d like you to lead me to my bedroom, second door on the left.”

Abruptly Ueda’s touch falls from Kitayama’s body and it takes him a second to regroup, shaking off a chill as he turns around to take Ueda’s hand. It’s the exact opposite of his experience with Fujigaya and that’s the last he wants to think about that, chancing a glance toward Ueda’s eyes before he turns around.

Just that quick lock of their eyes leaves him burning, Ueda’s gaze scorching with wisdom and desire, and anticipation doesn’t begin to describe what Kitayama feels right now. He tries to keep his movements calm, steady, but there’s a rush in his veins that he can’t subside as he follows the outlined path with the other man in tow.

He almost expects Ueda’s bedroom to be straight out of a fantasy, bondage gear all over with mirrors on the ceiling, but it looks like an ordinary bedroom. Bed, chest of drawers, only one mirror above the vanity dresser that holds his attention longer than it should.

“You like mirrors, Kitayama-kun?” Ueda asks, and Kitayama nods. “Let’s go stand in front of it, then.”

Ueda has to guide them the few feet to the middle of the room while Kitayama stands entranced. Their eyes meet in the mirror again and his stare is just as intense, like he can see right through him into the depths of his soul that’s only expressed late at night on the Internet.

“Shall I fuck you right here?” Ueda asks smoothly, and Kitayama shudders in his hold. “Do you want to watch your own face as I make you fall apart?”

“I want to watch _your_ face,” Kitayama says, not recognizing his own voice. “All this time I’ve wanted to see your face, to watch you watch me.”

“As you wish,” Ueda replies, kissing along the back of Kitayama’s jaw toward his ear, and Kitayama sees his own lips part for a moan. “Undress for me, please.”

Kitayama nearly chokes himself with how fast he pulls his shirt over his head, but then there’s a fierce grip on his hair and his surprise comes out in a desperate whine. “Slowly,” Ueda adds, and Kitayama nods in apology as he continues. His body is shaking from the force of his need, heightened by Ueda’s fingers trickling down his bare chest as he removes his shirt and starts in on his pants.

He’s not usually one to appreciate his own body, but his flushed skin and the way he’s visibly trembling under Ueda’s touch is very arousing. Naturally he trips as he steps out of his pants and boxers, but Ueda catches him and now those fingers are circling his hips, dipping down to the muscles of his thighs and back to the firm flesh of his ass.

“Very nice,” Ueda says, and Kitayama beams. “Now me.”

Reluctantly Kitayama tears his eyes away from the mirror, turning around to look at the real Ueda as his hands reach for the buttons of Ueda’s shirt. One by one he pops them open, purely led by touch since Ueda holds his gaze captive, and once he’s done he pushes the garment off of Ueda’s shoulders and down his arms. Then his hands drop down to Ueda’s belt and Ueda makes an enticing noise as Kitayama whips it off in one motion, Ueda grabbing him by the wrist to halt him as he starts to toss it aside.

“Place that on the dresser,” Ueda says. “Just in case we find it useful.”

Kitayama chokes out his next breath at the thought that order inspires as he follows it, his head looking down as he unfastens Ueda’s slacks. He still feels Ueda’s stare on him, heating every inch of his naked body, and he hesitates briefly before hooking his fingers in the waistband of Ueda’s boxers and pushing them and his pants down his legs.

“Stay there,” Ueda says, and Kitayama looks up in time to see him inhale sharply. He also sees Ueda’s cock right at eye level, surreptitiously licking his lips at the sight. “If you want it, you can have it.”

It feels like a gravitational force that pulls him closer, mouth slowly parting as he presses his lips to the head, and instantly Ueda’s hand is in his hair again, guiding him with a firm fist. Kitayama takes him all the way in, feeling a rush of pride when Ueda gasps in pleasant shock, and he lets Ueda gradually guide him back and forth until fingers twist in his hair and suddenly everything becomes so much rougher.

“I want to come in your mouth so badly,” Ueda hisses, and Kitayama swallows around him. “But I’d much rather wait to be inside you.”

Kitayama’s scalp stings as Ueda pulls him completely off. He struggles to focus through the blinding pain to find Ueda’s chest heaving, his skin tinted pink and a fresh wave of arousal floods him at the sight. Ueda uses his grip on Kitayama’s hair to bring him to his feet, taking a deep breath at Kitayama’s uncontrollable outcry, then he lets go and uses his fingers to rub the entire area he’d just irritated.

Gently he pushes Kitayama closer to him, but their lips don’t connect. He feels them next to his, their noses aligned as quick, hot breaths hit his cheek, and Kitayama grabs onto Ueda’s shoulders for balance. “Do you want to kiss me?” Ueda whispers.

“Yes, Ueda-san.”

“Not yet.”

Kitayama purses his lips as he feels Ueda’s press against his face – both cheeks, his forehead, chin, and all along his jaw. He kisses both corners of Kitayama’s mouth and Kitayama struggles not to turn his head that slight distance to feel those lips against his. It’s such a tame form of denial but a good way to ease him into it, though if he already wants it this badly he fears for his willpower later.

Ueda’s mouth drops to Kitayama’s collarbone and Kitayama’s eyes fly open, straining his eyes to watch them blurrily in the mirror. Lips trail along his shoulders, neck, and throat, leaving wet trails when Ueda’s tongue gets involved, and Kitayama moans softly at the way it spreads throughout his body. The grip on his hair tightens again, but Ueda kisses the cringe off of his face and hovers over his lips, barely touching.

“Don’t kiss me until I tell you to,” Ueda whispers, and Kitayama nods slightly as Ueda brushes their lips together enough to leave them tingling. This is pure torture and it’s not even due to sexual yearning; Kitayama never thought being prohibited from kissing someone who was kissing him would take so much self-restraint. Then Ueda flicks his tongue between Kitayama’s lips and he can’t help but part them, making it even more difficult to resist the way Ueda presses their lips together over and over.

He makes it until Ueda licks inside his mouth before shuddering, breathing harshly through his nose, and Ueda takes his bottom lip between his teeth. He gives it a quick nip and lets it go, using the tip of his tongue to sooth the small punctures, one hand threading through Kitayama’s hair while the other holds his head up by his chin.

The next second has those lips on his again, the tingles going straight to Kitayama’s toes, and Ueda flicks his tongue into Kitayama’s mouth one more time before whispering, “Now kiss me.”

Kitayama responds immediately, meeting Ueda’s tongue with his own and his mind completely shuts down, focusing on nothing but feelings and desire. Ueda tastes like sin, dominating even in his mouth, and Kitayama rushes to keep up as his arousal threatens to consume him. Ueda’s hands drop to his waist, drawing circles on his hips before spinning him around, so fast that Kitayama doesn’t know he’s been moved until he sees himself in the mirror again.

His arms end up twisted behind his head, and Ueda chuckles as he breaks their kiss that’s now over Kitayama’s shoulder. “You’re indulging me very much, Kitayama-kun.”

Kitayama watches his own lips turn up in amusement. “It just happened like that.”

“I like it,” Ueda tells him, fingers running up his sides and all the way inside his arms to where his wrists are crossed like they’re already bound. “Looks like we can use my belt after all.”

Kitayama’s eyes become even more hooded as he watches Ueda loop the belt around his wrists, securing it snugly. He could probably extend his elbows and lift his arms over his head, but he doesn’t want to. Stretching his torso like this makes every touch feel that much better.

Ueda steps closer and Kitayama gasps as a thick erection pokes the cleft of his ass. It settles neatly between his cheeks as Ueda rests his chin on Kitayama’s shoulder and returns his hands to Kitayama’s chest, going straight for the nipples. He pinches them hard enough for Kitayama to cry out again, hips bucking towards nothing and Ueda rocks against him with a deep grunt.

“I’d like to have you now,” Ueda says, and Kitayama watches himself nod frantically. Ueda lifts one of his knees to the dresser and bends him slightly, enough to spread him open as he grabs an inconspicuous jar and coats his fingers with the contents. The first one goes in easily and Kitayama’s surprised by the face he makes, features lax while he takes his bottom lip between his teeth.

He meets Ueda’s gaze and feels it inside him, touching him deeper than he could ever reach himself and angling more than a vibrator can. Ueda slowly but firmly pushes his finger in and out a few times before returning with a second one, twisting and curling until he finds that spot and Kitayama’s body pushes back on its own.

Ueda’s other hand returns to Kitayama’s hair just before he falls forward, where he would have undoubtedly landed face-first without the use of his arms. Kitayama tries to smile gratefully, but his scalp still hurts and the combination of pleasure and pain has him moaning as Ueda pulls him back enough to mouth his neck.

“Am I your first like this, Kitayama-kun?” Ueda rasps into his skin, and Kitayama nods. “Good.”

Three fingers and Kitayama’s body jolts before his own eyes, Ueda prodding his prostate and stretching him full. Kitayama knows it’s all leading up to having Ueda’s cock inside him and he trembles at the thought, tightening enough for Ueda to grunt as he fingers him harder.

Then the touch leaves him and Ueda reaches for more of the lube, applying it to himself before lifting Kitayama’s hips and pushing right in. Kitayama’s resulting noise is more out of surprise than anything else, expecting something much slower due to their activities thus far, but Ueda buries himself completely with one thrust.

“Kitayama-kun,” Ueda whispers into his ear, and Kitayama can feel him throbbing inside him. “You feel so good. Ask for it.”

“Fuck me,” Kitayama says, his voice weak and breathy. “Fuck me hard, Ueda-san.”

“That’s not a question,” Ueda replies, his tone turning rougher, and he’s yanked all the way back to Ueda’s shoulder as Ueda gives a single sharp snap of his hips. Kitayama’s not sure if this is a punishment or a reward, his head resting on Ueda’s collarbone as his body aches for him to move. He manages to focus on their reflection and Ueda’s face is the only thing he sees, halfway buried in Kitayama’s hair as he remains still.

“Please,” Kitayama tries again. “Ueda-san, will you please fuck me?”

“As you wish,” Ueda breathes, and all of the sudden everything is so much faster, harder, rougher. The dresser shakes from the force and Kitayama fears the mirror will topple over right onto them, the anxiety making him tighter and Ueda grunts as he has to use more force to push through it.

Kitayama moans with each breath, his pitch higher each time Ueda hits him deep, and his nerves singe as he becomes very aware of his neglected cock. “Ueda-san, it feels good.”

“Mm,” Ueda replies, and Kitayama gasps as fingers return to his chest. “Shall we see if we can make you come untouched again?”

“Yes, please,” Kitayama says, his body arching at the thought, and Ueda fists his hair at the same time his other hand twists a nipple. Sensation floods him, aided by Ueda’s cock slamming into him repeatedly, and he grabs onto his own fingers as the only release he can achieve is with his voice.

“Tell me right before,” Ueda gasps, his own breathing growing ragged, and Kitayama sees his mouth approach his neck just before he’s hit with a sharp jolt of pain. It’s right on the hairline where no one will see and it has him convulsing, so close, not close enough, but this time Kitayama recognizes the accumulation of pressure, and he rushes to form words.

“Now,” he gets out, and Ueda’s hand drops from his nipple between his legs.

Kitayama watches his own eyes widen as his tight balls are squeezed at the top, halting his orgasm, and now he’s pulling his _own_ hair as the pressure has nowhere to go. His body won’t stop moving and it’s probably a good thing his wrists are bound or he’d be punching things; as it is, the leg that’s lifted onto the desk starts twitching and Ueda presses him further into the dresser to cease it.

“Endure it,” Ueda hisses in his ear, and Kitayama screams. He screams unintelligible syllables, his throat feeling raw from the force, and it’s the only bit of relief he feels. “Just a little while longer.”

‘A little while’ feels like an eternity with Ueda still pounding into him, the intensity increasing with each thrust to his prostate. Finally he starts to calm down, his breathing becoming less erratic, and he lets out a sigh as Ueda lets go of his hair.

But then he’s trailing fingers down his chest, and Kitayama’s screams return full force when they make contact with his cock. Ueda’s thumbs the head, pressing into the slit and smearing the precome around as Kitayama’s body jerks sharply, unable to come. Fingers lightly tease his length and he feels it all over, in the tips of his fingers and toes and his aching scalp, his moans turning agonizing when Ueda starts stroking him slowly.

“You can do it,” Ueda says, his thrusts becoming slower and deeper as his hand gets faster. “How do you feel?”

“I want to come,” Kitayama whimpers, and Ueda’s lips are back on his neck. “I want to come so badly, Ueda-san.”

“Ask for it,” Ueda demands, now twisting his wrist and thumbing the slit as his hand flies up and down Kitayama’s length.

“Please may I come?” Kitayama begs, nearly jumping out of Ueda’s arms at the contained pressure within him. “Please, please, please.”

“As you wish,” Ueda says, and both of his hands return to their prior positions, one yanking his hair and another pinching his nipple, and Kitayama feels like he’s being electrocuted as his orgasm is forced out of him. It leaves him boneless, breathless, and nearly mindless, both of Ueda’s arms holding him up as he thrusts hard and fast, and Kitayama feels the pulse inside him when Ueda comes with a low groan.

He can’t move, but he doesn’t have to. Ueda removes the belt from his wrists, rubbing them gently as he lowers Kitayama’s arms, and just like that Ueda brings him into the bathroom to clean him up.

“Thank you, Ueda-san,” Kitayama says quietly, and Ueda kisses him.

“Thank you, Kitayama-kun, for posting on that website in the first place.”

*

“No _fucking_ way,” Fujigaya whispers loudly, eyes wide, and Kitayama smacks him in the back of the head.

“Yes, now erase it all from your brain.” Kitayama adjusts the ruffles on his costume as they prepare to go on stage. “I didn’t have to tell you, you know.”

“But. But.” Fujigaya leans on his shoulder, and Kitayama ignores the eyeroll they get from Tamamori. “You better tell me all about this after the show.”

“I’ve told you enough,” Kitayama grumbles.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to do this,” Fujigaya says. “With _Ueda_.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Kitayama hisses. “If anyone finds out, _you’re_ the one I’ll take it out on.”

Fujigaya’s eyes turn dark at the implication. “Didn’t _Master_ say I was welcome to join the two of you anytime?”

“ _No_ , Taisuke.” Kitayama narrows his eyes as he shoves Fujigaya away from him. “That was before we knew who the other was and you know it. You’re not that much of a dick.”

Haughtily, Fujigaya flips his hair and turns down the collar of his costume enough for Kitayama to see what’s under it – a sparkly pink collar. “It matched.”

“I take it back. You are a dick.”

“It’s not yours anymore,” Fujigaya says cryptically, and now Kitayama’s the one raising his eyebrows. “I should thank you, actually. Sex is so much better now that I know of this new stuff.”

Kitayama smiles despite himself. “I do feel pretty awesome for teaching _you_ something for once.”

“I know, right?” Fujigaya claps him on the back as they head out to perform. “Well, good luck with your new relationship.”

“Thanks,” Kitayama replies. “Oh, and Taisuke?”

“Yes?”

“Tell Kame I said hi.”


End file.
